The A-B-C's of Sherlock Holmes
by Colanna
Summary: John gets kidnapped and Sherlock is a wreck. A video feed to John's prison shows how he is passing the time, with math equations, some beatings, and children's games -except one game has Sherlock questioning how he thought John felt about him and leaves him even more wrecked until they are able to save his best friend. JohnxSherlock, helpful Lestrade, and shocked Donovan
1. Chapter 1: You'll Do

A/N: Hello All! This is a story that has been going through my head for quite some time. I've finally finished it, so I thought I would share. It will be several chapters long and here is the first, I hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

 **Chapter One: You'll Do**

"Sherlock" John called from the kitchen where he was putting the kettle on for tea, "Did you get milk like I asked?"

Sherlock doesn't respond and John sighs and goes to check the fridge. No milk, as he expected. He looks by the bin and sees 3 empty cartons next to it.

"Sherlock, what did you do with all the milk?" He asked, a little annoyed.

Sherlock grunted from his position on the sofa, "Experiment."

John walked into the living room angrily, "So you bought milk and then used it all up for an experiment?"

Sherlock nodded once, not even looking at his angry flatmate.

"Sherlock!" John fumed, "Did it not occur to you, that I may want a nice cuppa when I got home from my shift, since, you know, I told you to buy more milk if you used it up, which you did?"

Sherlock replied saucily, "I did buy more milk, John."

"But you used it all up!"

"You didn't specify to save it."

"Arghhhh… fine." John growled in frustration as he turned to the door and grabbed his coat. "I'm going out."

Sherlock didn't respond, as he stared up at the ceiling.

John angrily shook his head and left, shutting the door not too softly behind him.

* * *

John walked around angrily for about an hour, got himself a nice hot tea from the shop on the corner and then stopped in the park and sighed. There was no point in staying angry, Sherlock was, well being Sherlock. The fact that he bought the milk in the first place was a good step he supposed.

Ding.

John fished his phone out of his pocket and saw a text from Sherlock.

 _Bored. –SH_

"Well you can just stay that way, you wanker," John thought angrily, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. John heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. He went over to take a look but saw nothing. He shrugged and tossed his empty cup into the trash. Well, he sighed, since he was out, he might as well go to the shops.

* * *

Sherlock sighed in the flat. He was so bored and John wasn't answering his text. He supposed he probably shouldn't have used up all the milk, but when he had brought it in, he just had a brilliant idea of measuring its evaporation rate and how long the cat had been outside in the sun based on the milk left in the bowl and well, he had to replicate it in order to determine how long the owner had been gone. It was for a case, he thought petulantly. Well, he supposed he could apologize to John when he got home, then maybe John would entertain him. Sherlock smiled, that seemed like a good plan.

* * *

John grumbled as he headed out of Tesco, stupid chip and pin machines… he did not understand why they would never take his card!

At least he had bought milk, twice as much as normal, just in case Sherlock decided to use it up again. And those biscuits Sherlock liked. He figured he had punished the detective enough.

John heard a slight noise behind him. He glanced back and just saw two women walking and chatting. He shook his head at himself, calling himself too jumpy. He seemed to hear things everywhere these days, ever since he was jumped by Moriarty's henchmen.

"Oh, look out!" he heard a voice behind him.

John turned to see one of the women grabbing the other women next to her and looking on in horror across the street. John strained his neck, trying to see around the truck to see what was going on. He was a doctor, maybe he could help.

Then John felt a prick in his neck and he turned quickly to see 3 men behind him. One had a maniacal grin on his face. "You'll do," he said as John slowly faded out of consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2: Missing

A/N: I know these are short, but they divide into chapters the best this way! They will get longer as we get deeper into the story. But since they are short, I thought I would upload two in one go to start. Enjoy! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Missing**

Sherlock frowned. It was 10 o'clock and John still hadn't returned home. And no answers to his texts. He'd been out for almost 5 hours now, so that was strange, he didn't think John was that mad at him. Usually John only took an hour or two to calm down, then came home with milk and usually biscuits for Sherlock.

Sherlock texted him again.

 _John, where are you? –SH_

After an hour of no answers, he texted again.

 _John, you can't still be mad about the milk. Come home. –SH_

Another 45 minutes and Sherlock was getting anxious.

 _John, if you don't answer me right now, I am going to call Lestrade and you know how much he hates having his time wasted. –SH_

No answer.

 _John? Are you okay? –SH_

 _Lestrade, John is missing, send out a team immediately. -SH_

* * *

Lestrade was just finishing his shift when he received the text from Sherlock. He texted him back shaking his head.

 _Are you sure you didn't just upset him again? –GL_

 _Yes, but that was seven hours ago. He is never gone this long without at least telling me where he is. I've already contacted Sarah and she said she hasn't heard from him._

 _-SH_

Lestrade frowned, Sarah was normally John's go to for when he was upset with Sherlock, that or the pub. It was midnight, so that wouldn't be too unusual for John. Lestrade gave a quick call to what he knew were John's favorite haunts and heard no sign of him.

 _Did he tell you where he was going? –GL_

 _No, but he would have gone to Tesco's before coming back. A cashier confirms sight of him around 6:30 pm. –SH_

 _He bought milk so logically he would come home after that. –SH_

 _No luck at the pubs mate, I think it is time to bring in your brother. -GL_

Sherlock growled, he hated getting his brother involved in his affairs... but for John's safety, he would do anything, even talk to Mycroft.

* * *

 _Mycroft? Where is John? Leaving Tesco's 6:30 pm. –SH_

Mycroft looked down at his phone and frowned. Sherlock didn't normally text him about his domestic spats. He quickly went through the CCTV images and searched for John according to Sherlock's time table. He caught John leaving the building and switched cameras to follow him down the street. The camera cut out for two seconds and then there was a large lorry blocking it. Mycroft waited, but John never came out the other side. Mycroft shifted views and couldn't locate him. He was off camera entirely. He shifted back and when the lorry finally moved, he saw a bag of groceries shoved to the side in the alleyway.

 _Halfway down Hamilton Road, no John, but bags in the alleyway. Tell Lestrade to meet us there. –MH_

Sherlock's eyes widened as he realized the potential of Mycroft's response. He had hated asking his brother, but it had now been almost 10 hours and no sign of him. It was three in the morning and John would never make him worry, not that he was worried, John knew how to fight and take care of himself.

* * *

Sherlock reached the alleyway about 3 minutes before Mycroft. He saw the bags stashed away and hurriedly searched through them. There, nestled underneath them, was John's cellphone, blinking with 32 missed messages and phonecalls.

Sherlock looked up as Sally Donovan showed up on the scene.

"What are you doing here? I asked for Lestrade," he said curtly as way of greeting.

Sally rolled her eyes, but didn't comment, "Lestrade sent me. Something came up at the station and he wants you there now. I'll take care of this," she said, gesturing to the scene in front of him.

Sherlock hesitated, then handed her the phone. "It's John's."

She nodded in understanding, then got to work with her team setting up some lights and tape to investigate the scene.

Mycroft was standing off to the side, waiting for Sherlock by the car.

Sherlock got in behind him as Mycroft spoke to the driver, "To London Yard please."

Mycroft looked at Sherlock in careful concern, trying not to let anything show on his face.

"I'm sure he is fine, Sherlock," he offered as way of support.

Sherlock didn't deem his statement with response. Of course John was fine, John was John, he was always fine.


	3. Chapter 3: Video Feed

A/N: Chapter 3! :D Please note some language begins now and in the upcoming chapters. This one is short, but I'm posting two! Happy Early Valentine's Day! :) Also, please review!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Video Feed**

"Why didn't you go to the crime scene, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked angrily.

"Because this showed up on out doorstep and I thought you might want to take a look." Lestrade responded, ushering Sherlock and Mycroft into his office and over to his computer screen.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, staring at the blank screen.

Lestrade handed him a piece of paper and the two brothers read it.

 _You took one of mine, so I took one of yours. You know what we want. Stay tuned! user: Scotlandyard password: Holmes2_

"Oh Dear," the voice behind Sherlock said.

Sherlock turned on Mycroft, "What do you mean oh dear?"

"Well it seems to me, this is supposed to be incentive for me to release a certain criminal I've been interrogating for the last month."

"They took John as incentive for you? Why on earth would they do that?" Sherlock argued as Lestrade took back the paper and carefully typed in the listed website.

"Well," Mycroft hesitated, "It seems they were unable to get to you, so this seemed to be the next best thing."

"You mean John got kidnapped instead of me because of your stupid little games!" Sherlock yelled angrily.

"Gentlemen –" Lestrade tried to interrupt, staring at the computer screen in front of him, as an image came into focus.

"It's not a stupid game," Mycroft huffed, "It's a matter of national security."

"It's probably some stupid mid-level criminal, barely worth the effort." Sherlock scoffed.

"Mid-level criminals are not completely useless, they have connections," Mycroft responded.

"Boys –"

"Well of course they have connections! This means that you are interrogating some schmuck who probably barely knows anything, while the bigger guy steals John away and now you've put him in danger!"

"Why, Sherlock, I didn't know you cared about your blogger so much –"

"Would you both SHUT UP!"

The brothers turned to Lestrade who was staring angrily at them.

"What?" they asked.

"I think you'll want to see this," Lestrade said, as he gestured to his computer screen.

The two men returned to his side and watched as the log in to the website triggered a countdown, 5-4-3-2-1. There was John, passed out on a cot in a tiny little room, who the fuck knows where.

"John…" Sherlock breathed as he sat heavily in Lestrade's chair.

* * *

John woke up with a massive headache. Seriously, his head was throbbing and his mouth was so dry; he needed some water.

He opened his eyes slowly and paused. Right, kidnapped again. Fuck. He closed his eyes again and sighed before sitting up to take in his surroundings. No windows so no sun, that meant he had no way of telling how long he had been out.

The room was cold and somewhat damp, with one flickering lightbulb hanging by a thread off the ceiling. He was laying on a small, John shifted and grimaced, and very uncofrtable bed. There was a table next to him, an area to piss in the corner, and a giant steel door with 3 different locks and no doorknob on the inside.

John stood up and walked over to the door to test it out. Solid and heavy, it did not move an inch. Yup, he was definitely a prisoner and not getting out anytime soon.


	4. Chapter 4: Caveman

A/N: Chapter 4! Chapters will start to get a little longer now, and soon we get to bored John... Please Review :)

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Caveman**

Sherlock's eyes stayed glued to the screen the entire time John was displayed. He hadn't moved in 3 hours as he searched the room for some clues to John's location. It was almost 7 am and John had been missing for over 12 hours and he had nothing.

Mycroft had excused himself an hour ago, after a discussion with Lestrade, advising he would work all his connections to try and find John. Sherlock suspected that included more interrogation of his prisoner. He shivered, he hoped they wouldn't retaliate on John.

Lestrade had been working strings around the city, looking for the van, but traffic cameras had last seen it exiting the city around 7:30 pm. He came back in with Sally, to get an update from Sherlock on the video feed.

"Anything yet?" he asked.

"No," Sherlock growled, "The room is so dark, I can barely see anything, and its grainy imaging and it is so nondescript, the pieces of furniture give nothing away, nor does the door. I can't even make out the height of the room from how they've angled the camera! Your stupid cyber division, load of useless twats that they are, hasn't given me anything either!"

Lestrade looked at him in sympathy. "Well, we're trying to follow the broadcast to pinpoint the video feed's location, but it keeps bouncing around. We've moved the broadcast onto the screen in a bigger room so we can keep more eyes on it. We'll monitor in shifts."

Lestrade turned to have Sherlock leave the room, but at the door, he noticed Sherlock didn't follow.

"Sherlock, I'm going to transfer it to a bigger screen as well as several smaller screens in the briefing room. Come on and watch there."

Sherlock looked at him, "What if I miss something in the time it takes to get there?"

"I already have someone monitoring it, they'll catch it. We're also recording it."

"I doubt the idiots you have employed here, would be able to notice something of significance." Sherlock replied, without looking up.

"Sherlock," Lestrade sighed, "You need to give your eyes a rest. You're more likely to miss something the longer you stare at that screen."

"Irrelevant."

"At least come into the room that is leading the investigation, you'll be able to hear all the information as it is covered. It'll be much easier for you to make deductions that way."

Sherlock paused. Lestrade made a good point with that. Sherlock decided that the best way he could help John, would be to be at the centre of the investigations.

"You promise someone is watching while I go down there?" Sherlock asked, not looking up.

"Yes, look I'll get Sally to monitor it. Sally?" Lestrade asked the Sergeant, standing next to him. She seemed slightly put off, but nodded to Lestrade and went down the hall. Moments later, Lestrade heard her call out, advising him she was in position.

"Alright Sherlock, look away from the screen for a moment," Lestrade asked gently.

"Wait," Sherlock said, eyes widening, "There's someone coming in."

* * *

John lay on his back, counting the bumps on the ceiling for as long as he could. He was basically in a cave. Great, a prisoner, in a cave, which meant he was underground, abso-freaking-lutely lovely.

He sighed, he was so bored. He almost wished his captors would come and at least threaten him.

The door suddenly started opening and John sat bolt upright as he got his wish.

Two guards came in, heavily armed with guns, one of them carrying a tray with what looked like food and water. The other pointed his gun at John threateningly.

"Is that for me?" John asked standing up.

The other guy advanced suddenly and poked him with the gun so he was back on the bed.

"Ouch," John said as he rubbed his stomach, "Okay, I get it, no standing up when you are in the room."

The man nodded as the other man placed the tray down and manoeuvred his own gun back into his hands.

"Okay, so you obviously understand English, but are you not allowed to speak to me?"

The men ignored him as they slowly backed up and exited the room.

John sighed as the door slammed shut and he heard a bolt thud into place.

"At least they want to keep me alive if they are feeding me," he mused, as he settled at the table to open the bottle of water and grab the chunk of bread and cheese they had left.

"What if I was lactose intolerant?" John said aloud, "This would be much worse then, I suppose."

* * *

Sherlock had watched with wide eyes and bated breath as the two goons came in and gave John some food. He tried to decipher their ethnicity or gang membership by the clothing they wore, but the video was too distant and grainy.

Sherlock recoiled angrily when they shoved the gun at John, but John had just sat back down acquiescently until they left. Then he turned and looked at the food and Sherlock heard him say "This would be much worse then, I suppose."

Sherlock looked at Lestrade quickly before hastily turning up the audio. They hadn't realized there was sound! John just hadn't spoken until then. This could provide all sorts of other clues.

Lestrade smiled at Sherlock's optimism and turned away to let the man work.

Lestrade let Sherlock work another hour before trying to convince him to rest his eyes. Sherlock argued vehemently until Lestrade advised him that he wouldn't get anything by tiring his eyes and watching John lay on the bed. Besides, Sally was watching on the bigger screen. Sherlock could just listen to the broadcast until he heard something that required watching. Sherlock didn't like to look away, but his eyes were hurting, and he had to admit that Sally was competent enough to watch the screen while he wasn't. Plus they were recording it, so if he heard anything, he could get them to play it back on another monitor. Sherlock reluctantly agreed, closing his eyes for the first time in several hours

Sherlock heard Lestrade shuffle away to the hall and then come back in with something crinkling in his hand.

"Here Sherlock, you need to eat something."

Sherlock opened his eyes to find Lestrade pushing a sandwich towards him on the table. Sherlock ignored it and closed his eyes again, listening carefully to John's breathing in the dark room.

"Sherlock, you need to eat."

Sherlock opened his eyes and glared at Lestrade. "I ate yesterday."

Lestrade looked at him pityingly, "What would John say if you didn't eat, just because you were trying to find him?"

Sherlock scowled… Lestrade was right, John would be very upset with him. He picked up the sandwich and sniffed it as Lestrade ginned in triumph. Well, he did like ham, and it had no pickles… how did Lestrade know that? He took a tentative bite and deemed it edible and turned back to the screen with his snack in hand.

"I do observe things too you know," Lestrade said, noticing Sherlock's unasked question with a grin. Sherlock ignored him and continued to eat. It was a pretty good sandwich after all.


	5. Chapter 5: Nursery Rhymes

A/N: Hello you lovely folks, thank you so much to everyone who has favourited/followed my story :) I also love getting reviews! :)

Here we get to see a bit of Sally's confusion over seeing a different side of Sherlock.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Nursery Rhymes**

John sighed. Laying on this cot, his mind was wandering and it kept wandering to Sherlock. He felt bad, he knew Sherlock would be worried about him being kidnapped –again! Seriously, why does this always happen to him? He hoped he'd be able to escape, but they wouldn't even let him out of this room. He'd had two visits today, so he figured that was all he would get and they still wouldn't talk to him. Probably didn't want to give away accents or something.

How long had he been here? Usually John had an excellent sense of time, the military really drilled that into you. But having been knocked out, it threw off his internal clock. He figured he must have been passed out for several hours at the very least, half a day at the most, based on his lack of extreme hunger upon waking. He estimated another 3-4 hours awake before he had napped and been woken up with another meal which he was assuming was supper. They must plan to only feed him twice day, he thought, but at least they were feeding him.

John had just finished eating and sighed, he was bored and not tired at all. John needed a way to pass the time. He decided to start with nursery rhymes.

"Old Mother Hubbard…"

* * *

"Is he reciting nursery rhymes?" Sally asked as the first day of John's disappearance came to a close.

Sherlock ignored her, not deeming her question worth a response.

Sally stared at him as he continued to watch the screen. She had been glancing back at him all day, confused over his dedication to the screen. She understood that he enjoyed solving crimes with a passion bordering on psychotic obsession, but he hadn't left his seat to follow any clues, too terified of missing something on the screen. She hesitated but then opened her mouth to ask him a question.

"Why do you care?"

Sherlock's head jerked away momentarily from the screen then he immediately looked back. If Sally wasn't watching, then he had to make sure he was, just in case.

"Seriously though, why do you care? He's just your blogger, your shadow. You don't really need him to solve your cases."

Sherlock scoffed, "You obviously know nothing," he replied, not looking up from the screen.

"What? You don't need him, so I don't understand why you are looking so hard for him. Do you owe him or something for him saving your sorry ass? I mean, you obviously can't be emotionally attached to him."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and continued monitoring the screen as John continued to recite what appeared to be nursury rhymes… every single one he knew. Sherlock had deleted nursury rhymes obviously –irrelevant until that case with Moriarty, but seriously, did John know all of them? It was pleasing to hear John speak though, his voice was steady and clear, which indicated that he was still okay.

Sally stared at the man she considered a freak as he ignored her and continued watching his partner on the screen. She was confused. She was usually a decent judge of character, I mean, that was how she got this job, but Sherlock seemed, agitated, off… she didn't understand why John's kidnapping bothered him so much. Children being kidnapped didn't, so why would his blogger? It didn't make sense.

Lestrade came in shortly and she watched as he forced Sherlock off the computer for the third time that day and down to a couch to close his eyes, using threats such as 'what would John think of you not sleeping or taking breaks? He is a doctor and he would be upset with you straining your eyes so much!'

Sally didn't understand how just those two sentences caused Sherlock to actually listen. She watched as Lestrade gave Sherlock something to drink with a meaningful quirk to his eyebrow and Sherlock rolled his eyes but took it and drank. Lestrade towered over the detective as he pointed down again. Sherlock sighed, but lay down as instructed and closed his eyes. He wouldn't sleep, but he understood he needed rest. Sally stared, confused, how did Lestrade make him do those things? Sherlock insulted Lestrade at every turn! She turned back to the screen and sat back down, shaking the confusing thoughts out of her head.

Sally kept watching the screen, after all it was her shift, but every once in a while, she would glance over at the freak on the couch wondering if maybe her judgment had been a bit off? Then she shook her head, there was another reason. He was a psychopath, he didn't have friends, he just needed John back to help him with cases.


	6. Chapter 6: The Alphabet

A/N: And so it begins... (I know it's short, but we're getting to the good stuff, I promise! Also why I post chapters in twos ;) Enjoy! And please review!)

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Alphabet**

John awoke with a start as the overhead light flicked back on his his cell. Must be morning then, he thought. Day two in this tiny little cell. He didn't move as the door swung open again and his guards, new ones today, brought him his breakfast. He nodded at them, but didn't move from the bed. He didn't feel like being threatened with a gun this morning just yet. After they left, he went over to the corner to relieve himself and sighed before mentally preparing himself for another day of boredom.

* * *

Sherlock watched John anxiously on the other end of the screen, attempting to gain any clue he could from John's whereabouts. Nothing. Still nothing. He was so frustrated! He had watched John disappear from screen and reappear, eat breakfast, do some physical exercises and then lay down and stare up at the ceiling for a few hours, before taking a nap. He spent the afternoon watching John do some more exercises, sing a few pop songs, then try and scrape something on the wall with a rock he had found.

Of course, the guards had seen the rock when they came in with his supper and threatened him again with their guns until John realized what they were worried about and backed away from the table where he had left it.

He let out an aggravated growl and Lestrade looked over at him in pity.

"We'll find him, Sherlock, don't you worry," Lestrade said, with what he hoped was confidence.

Sherlock glared at him, "It's been 2 days and we have no leads! This is infuriating! He is right there! If only I could see…"

Lestrade walked over to Sherlock and put a hand on his shoulder, "I know mate, it's frustrating to be so lost, how do you think we feel with you sometimes! But we will find a clue soon, I am sure of it! We've got you and Sally watching the screens vigilantly, while we got others reviewing the guards entry and analyzing other information. Besides, if this is to get at Mycroft, I'm sure once they don't hear from him, we'll get some sort of clue."

Sherlock was about to answer back when he heard his name in John's voice come over the audio feed.

"God, this must be how Sherlock feels when he's bored. This is bloody terrible!" John through his hands up over his head and sighed from his position on the bed. "I've run out of nursery rhymes and pop songs… What did Harry and I use to play on car trips?" John paused a moment, thinking, "There were those alphabet games, I suppose." Then a giant grin formed on his face. "Ha, I bet I can think of a word to describe Sherlock for every letter of the alphabet!"

Sherlock looked at Lestrade in confusion, who looked back and shrugged and the two men turned back to the screen to watch and listen to John's ingenious new plan to pass the time.


	7. Chapter 7: Sexy and Loved

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I made it longer, so I hope it was worth the wait! Please review! xoxo :)

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Sexy and Loved**

In his underground cell, John decided to play the ABCs game, a game he had played with Harry as a child, on road trips. John smirked remembering the cruder versions they had played, describing some of the more horrid relatives when Mum and Dad weren't around. The game involved finding a word for each letter of the alphabet, whether it was animals, foods, or describing a person, which they had often done and not with the politest of words. Now though, now he was so fucking bored, he would do anything to pass the time, even this game. As an exta challenge for his brain, he was going to see how well he knew the alphabet backwards... not like Sherlock was around to judge his alphabet, not that Sherlock probably considered it important to know the alphabet backwards… but anyway that was besides the point. He supposed he would do the ABCs of Sherlock to pass the time. John snickered as that really was a hilarious way to describe it.

"The ABCs of Sherlock… okay lets start at the end, _Z_ would be zealous. I know he would hate being called that but the energy he puts into a case or a good murder, there is no better word!" John chuckled to himself as he imagined Sherlock twirling around in excitement after discovering a serial killer.

" _Y_ is young because he is sulky like a child, but also his excitement takes over him and his eyes sparkle and he loses years in his face. Besides, he's younger than me, so that works too. _X_ is… fuck, I don't know any descriptors that start with _X_ …" John paused thoughtfully, "Nope, not even wasting the time trying to think of that, I guess I will have to go with exciting, that's close enough and a pretty obvious choice for him.

"Hmmm, _W_ is witty, though he is always surprised when I get his jokes and snark and _V..._ is vindictive, especially towards a certain brother of his!" John smiled thinking of Sherlock's sneer when he was battling wits with his older brother. Sherlock hated Mycroft lording things over him.

" _U_ is unique, though I could easily also say underweight. That man is all skin in bones, I'm pretty sure I can count each of his ribs! _T_ is thrilling… no talented –no terrible! Haha, yes he can be terrible to people but he is also talented and thrilling so it works I guess."

John leaned back against the wall as he pondered the next letter. A soft smile fell on his face as he said " _S_ … _S_ would definitely have to be sexy."

* * *

Lestrade gasped as he heard John describe Sherlock as sexy. Sure everyone thought they were shagging, but to have rumors confirmed. Then he glanced at Sherlock who seemed to be in a bit of shock. Oh. Not confirmed then.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" Lestrade asked him. There was no response. Sherlock's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at the screen.

"Sherlock?"

* * *

Unaware of his spectators, John continued on, nonchalant, casually naming off adjectives to describe Sherlock.

" _R_ is rambunctious, _Q_ is quizzical because he always wants to know why something does something else.

" _P_ is posh, I mean seriously that coat and those suits he wears? Even his shampoo is ridiculously expensive, but noooooo, he needs something special to deal with those curls! _O_ is observant, can't really top that one. _N_ is maybe negligent –of the law (John chuckled) or naïve, he is definitely naïve to certain social niceties or intimacies, especially friendships." John smiled fondly as he thought of how he had told Sherlock he was his best friend. The shock and confusion on his friend's face had been amazing and a little sad. John wanted to make sure Sherlock always knew he had him as a friend from that point on.

" _M_ is manipulative, that son of a bitch, god does he ever know how to get what he wants. Maybe I'm too easy on him sometimes though, no I definitely am. Oh well... L is lazy.. or lanky, that git with his stupid long arms and legs... But no, I think he doesn't know it, but the best word to describe him for _L_ is loved."

John smiled faintly as he imagined his flatmate with his mess of curls and manic grins and nodded, "Yeah, loved definitely works the best, he may not know it, but he is definitely loved by many people, not just me."

* * *

Sherlock finally came out of his shock to whisper shakily, "John thinks I'm sexy?"

Lestrade laughed at first, but his laughter died off as he saw the confusion in Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock seemed so lost and confused, now was not the time. Lestrade knew Sherlock had a hard time with emotions and that he didn't understand how John was even friends with him, but that he counted it as a blessing now. Knowing that John thought he was attractive was a step past friendship that Sherlock couldn't quite grasp.

"Maybe that's something you should ask him yourself once we get him back." Lestrade suggested cautiously.

Sherlock nodded as he turned his attention back to the video monitor.

Donovan entered at that moment to talk to Lestrade after her break was over. She came over to the monitor in confusion when no one noticed her presence.

"What's going on?" she asked, coming to stand right beside them. "Did you find a clue?"

Both men startled at her entrance.

Lestrade looked at Sherlock and answered, "Not yet, John is just playing a game to pass the time."

"What is he playing now?" She asked curiously, but also a bit exasperated, because she had listened to John recite nursery rhymes for 3 hours last night. She turned to the screen to pay attention.

" _M_ is manipulative…" she heard coming across the screen.

"Oh my god, is he describing you?" She asked with laughter at Sherlock.

He gave her a curt nod, acknowledging the question and going back to ignoring her.

"That's hilarious, I can't imagine what funny things he has to say about –" and she stopped mid sentence at the smile on John Watson's face and his words, 'he is definitely loved by many people, not just me.' Her first instinct was to confirm they were together. But the soft intake in breath and the wide eyes of the one and only Sherlock Holmes next to her, made her hesitate. Did he not know?

"You didn't know?" She asked him incredulously.

Sherlock didn't answer her, staring at the screen as a soft "John" fell from his lips.

Sally stared at him, "Sherlock, did you not know?"

Sherlock started at his name and looked at her in confusion, coming out briefly from his mind palace, "Know what?" he asked.

"He follows you everywhere and into any kind of mess. He will do anything you ask. And the way he looks at you? I thought you were observant! You didn't see it?"

"See what?" Sherlock asks again, furstrated but appearing almost fragile in his complete confusion.

"That he loves you!" Donovan said in exasperation.

Sherlock looked at her in disbelief, his eyebrows curving in to a ponder what she said and then he shook his head. "That's not true. He doesn't mean it like that… he can't." Sherlock bit his lip in a second of visible confusion before he turned back to the monitor, ignoring the other spectators.

Donovan looked like she wanted to say something more but one look from Lestrade quieted her instantly. How could the Freak not see what everyone else did? She had thought he knew and was using John because of it. Now it definitely seemed like that was not actually the case.


	8. Chapter 8: Undeniable Attraction

A/N: To all my readers, thank you for your patience! I had a crazy busy few weeks with work and Easter but am now back to having time to get this finished! I think this next bit will be worth the wait though. Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed and reads this, I hope you enjoy the next installment! Oh and please note this chapter has some swear words/implied language...

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Undeniable Attraction**

John paused, what was the next letter? L… J-K-L, okay _K_ then.

"Knowledgeable works for _K_ , sometimes I would say keen, especially about his experiments, sometimes too much about a murder…" John laughed.

" _J_ would be… jaded? I think. I can't think of anything better at the moment, but definitely jaded in his views of society, of people… but he can't help that, not with what he obviously went through before."

" _I_ would be interesting? No, that's too obvious… irritating? That's true," John chuckled, "How about intelligent? Nope, Sherlock would definitely scoff at that and say ' _obvious_ ' in that tosser voice of his. Hmm... how about idiot?" John paused and smiled at the accuracy of that choice. "Yup, he is definitely a big idiot," John says fondly, "but he is my favourite idiot."

" _H_ would have to be… histrionic? That's a good word, but not really him. Hurtful is true, but I know he doesn't mean to be… I know, honest. But then he did lie to me about being alive for two years… so I suppose honest only when necessary. How about haughty? Ugh too many _h_ adjectives, but yeah, haughty that definitely works." John smirks at that.

So next is… _G_. I know he doesn't think it and would never believe it if I told him, but good is definitely the answer. He is a good man, the best I know. Genius also works, as does graceful, especially when he plays the violin. I love watching him play, the way he moves with the music, lost in the sound," John got lost in his memory of Sherlock coaxing beautiful music out of his violin. He mused further, "His music and his playing, it's art in motion! He looks especially gorgeous when playing –oh gorgeous! That works!

* * *

"I'm not an idiot," Sherlock says grumpily as they listen to John continue his list.

Lestrade smiles at him, of course the one word he would take offense to would be idiot.

Lestrade watches as Sherlock stares at the screen, enraptured by John's list. Lestrade bet that no one has ever taken the time to get to know Sherlock so deeply, knowing the good and the bad about him and still liking him.

When John got to 'gorgeous', Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Lestrade smirked as Sally tried to control her huff of breath. He knew she didn't disagree. Heck, even Lestrade knew that Sherlock was bloody gorgeous, he was just a giant prat on top of that.

* * *

John paused a moment at _F_. He knew Sherlock was fun, funny, frantic; he could list them all out loud, but he knew there was another word, one word that would best represent what he thought about Sherlock. John groaned as he ran a hand across the stubble growing on his face after two days of captivity. He debated whether he should actually admit it out loud, though he knew in his head he already thought this way. He could just imagine Sherlock, lounged on the couch in his dressing gown, the light in his eyes as he jumped up in excitement, or the devastating figure he cut, standing at the window in a tailored suit as he coaxed music out of his violin.

John sighed. He knew it was time he admitted it to himself, out loud.

" _F_ for Sherlock," he said staring up at the ceiling, " _F_ is definitely fuckable."

* * *

The noise that came out of Sherlock's mouth, Lestrade could not find words to describe. He watched as Sherlock's face went bright red and the man stared at the screen blankly.

Sally froze in place in shock and then smirked, because everyone in the office had bets on them shagging. It just seemed that Sherlock was the only one who didn't know. As she watched the detective stare in shock and embarrassment at the screen as John went through several other letters of the alphabet, she felt a bit sorry for him; maybe he didn't have as few feelings as she originally thought.

Lestrade was more concerned about Sherlock at the moment, as he waved a hand in front of Sherlock's face; no response.

"Sherlock? Are you still with us?" he asked. Still no response. Sherlock was far away in his head, trying to reconcile these feelings with the John room in his mind palace… well okay, if he had to admit it, it was the John wing, but really just because it was the largest wing in his his mind palace, that didn't mean much.

Sherlock wandered slowly through John's wing in his mind palace. He ran through several memories, trying to find evidence of John's feelings. He ran through John's smiles, the twinkles in John's eyes, the fond look John got sometimes when he looked at him… but none of those reconciled with, well, what John had just said.

Sherlock turned to John's bedroom. This was sacred ground in his mind. He hesitated, but slowly pushed open the door. This is where he hid the expressions he didn't quite understand… quick appraising glances when he stepped out in a suit or eyes following him as he went down the hall in his towel, a shiver running through him as he felt John's eyes watching him, but whenever he looked back, John was reading his medical texts and drinking tea as he normally did.

Sherlock wandered through the room and opened the closet, recalling one moment after a difficult case where he and John had been forced to hide together in a small broom closet. The closet had been packed full of cleaning supplies and there was only a small amount of standing space for the two of them. Sherlock's front had been pressed against John's back and his arms braced against the shelf on either side of John. Sherlock had struggled to keep his breathing under control. He knew he had to control himself this close to John or else he would know. Sherlock delved deeper into the memory, reliving it as though it was happening now.

The closet was dark, only a small sliver of light coming in underneath the door. Sherlock could feel the uncomfortable feeling of shelving pressing against his back and into the palms of his hands. He counted as he breathed, making sure his breath came out slowly and steadily. He did his best not to press into John, but really, there wasn't much choice -or space. John's breathing seemed laboured and the man in front of him, kept shifting. Each movement he made brushed against Sherlock lightly.

"John?" he asked hesitantly when the man in front of him shifted again.

"Shh," John whispered, "we're hiding."

Sherlock frowned, as John shifted discreetly again. He knew John didn't want him to notice. Was he making John uncomfortable? Sherlock didn't have time to dwell on that thought as he heard the mercenaries they had ben investigating run by the closet, their feet pounding on the ground as he and John each held their breath.

He shifted closer for a moment to whisper in John's ear, "It sounds like they left. We should probably stay here a few more minutes, but we'll be safe after that."

John jumped slightly and Sherlock heard a muffled noise come out. Sherlock stood there, confused. Were John's ears ticklish?

After a few more moments of silence, Sherlock figured it was safe. "Can you look out?" he asked John quietly, careful not to tickle his ears again.

John turned back and looked up at him briefly, his pupils dilated slightly and nodded.

John leaned towards the door and opened it a crack. He scanned the scene quickly and turned back to Sherlock to confirm, "All clear." John walked quickly out of the closet without a backwards glance at him.

Sherlock moved to go after him, wondering why John's voice sounded lower than normal. He filed these observations away in the 'confusing John memories' section of his mind palace, to be looked at later, only he never got around to it.

Now with this revelation from John, Sherlock realized that maybe John had been attracted to him at that moment in the closet? Maybe John liked him too?

Sherlock didn't dare hope, that would be too much, after everything he put John through. But John had just said that Sherlock was lovable; he had told him before that he loved him, as his best friend though… But John thought he was sexy and gorgeous and -and fuckable… These thoughts were just too foreign to him right now, too difficult to process on his own. He needed John here to help him. He needed his John back.

"John," Sherlock muttered as he returned to reality with Lestrade and Sally. Lestrade was looking at him in concern, understanding where he had gone, but Sally just stared at him in complete confusion. Who was this stranger sitting in front of her? This was not the self-assured, confident and genius detective she had grown to hate. Instead this was a man who was lost and confused and unsure. It appeared that John was more important to him than she had realized before, not just the other way around.

Lestrade got down to Sherlock's level as he came back to reality and seemed confused by John's new ramblings. "It's okay Sherlock," Lestrade told the detective, "John is still there, he just finished the alphabet and moved on to math equations. We have the whole thing recored, so I think you might want to watch the rest."

"Will someone still watch John while I'm gone?" Sherlock asked, not arguing with Lestrade but hesitant to leave his faithful post.

"Sally will stay here and monitor him," Lestrade answered, nodding at Sally as he guided Sherlock to his office to watch the rest of the transmission in peace.


	9. Chapter 9: A is for Amazing

A/N: I know it's been awhile, but life gets in the way sometimes, thanks to everyone who stuck through, I've got at least 2 more chapters to go after this one I think! I hope you all enjoy it! :)

 **Chapter 9: A is for Amazing**

* * *

John stopped in shock for a moment as he realized he had finally said it out loud; what would Harry say to him now? She had been trying to convince him for months, but John had refused to admit it. Now, that he had admitted it to himself in this empty room (nothing like being kidnapped to encourage some soul searching), John felt immensely better, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

He grinned and continued with his alphabet game.

" _E_ is energetic when he does experiments or gets cases, or eccentric, because he is definitely eccentric... all those books on bees, I mean really! _D_ is dramatic He needs an audience, he definitely can't solve a case without one. Plus he has this flair to him when he flounces off after a lead, haha, dramatic is perfect for him. Hmmm, _C_ is cunning, but I already said manipulative and those are somewhat similar, how about curious with all his experiments? Oh, and childish when he sulks, that's definitely true too.

" _B_ is blood brilliant, there's no way around that and _A_ is addictive, because heavens knows why I drop everything to go on a case with him. He's definitely addictive to me. He's also absolutely amazing." John smiled as he realized that was honestly the most perfect word to describe his flatmate and best friend.

"Yeah, amazing is the best way to describe Sherlock in a nutshell; it was my first thought after his deductions and it's my first thought whenever I think of him… he's definitely an amazing man and I'm lucky to have him in my life."

John went silent then as the weight of what he said washed over him. He was in love with Sherlock Holmes, there was no way around it. Maybe someday Sherlock would love him back, but for now, he was just content to be in his orbit. John smiled as he thought about Sherlock, the excited look in his eyes when he got a case, the little wink he would give John, the outfit he wore when… okay John, stop this right now. No matter how pretty Sherlock's arse is... No stop! Let's move on to some math equations because thinking about Sherlock and his arse is not going to help anyone right now.

Sighing, John began out loud, "1 + 1 = 2, 2 + 2 = 4, 4 + 4 = 8…"

* * *

Sherlock stared at the screen as he watched John shift moods abruptly and start counting out loud.

"Lestrade?" he asked.

"Yes, Sherlock?" Lestrade answered, coming over to the detective.

Sherlock hesitated before asking, "Did he really say all those things about me?"

Lestrade smiled softly as he responded, "Of course, how many other Sherlock's do you think he knows?"

Sherlock looked at Lestrade before looking back at John, "But," he said, his cheeks tinged a bit pink, "He couldn't mean some of those things, there's no way… no way." Sherlock shook his head as he started talking to himself in his mind.

Lestrade looked at the poor man in pity. It was so obvious to him now that Sherlock was in love with John, he just didn't understand the emotion. And, well, everyone knew John was in love with Sherlock. He hadn't realized just how deep Sherlock's self-deprecating feelings went.

Lestrade interrupted Sherlock's inner thoughts before they could go any further, "It seems to me Sherlock, that he really likes you, and thinks very highly of you. I think we better just focus on finding him, before you worry about it anymore."

Sherlock agreed. It was time to call Mycroft again, and Sherlock couldn't talk to him like this, Mycroft would laugh at him and tell him about the disadvantages and mundanity of normal life. Sherlock shook his head, he needed to focus, he needed to find John, and he needed to talk to Mycroft and see if he had any leads.

* * *

"I'm afraid that the kidnappers are linked to a drug cartel that we shut down, but specifically associated with the son of a high level official, so of course we kept it quiet. However, the son is quite upset with his father for turning in evidence against him. He is also quite upset with me as I was the one who caught him. Due to his father's position, we had to let him go, but his father cut him off from funds, so obviously this little tantrum is him trying to regain access to the family vaults."

Mycroft rested his umbrella of the back of the chair in front of him.

"You mean some idiot's temper tantrum over being cut off got John kidnapped?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm afraid so. He contacted his father and threatened to expose his father's own illicit dealings unless he received money. His father of course succumbed to the threats and provided him these funds, which then funded this kidnapping plan. I currently have in custody a person that the son wants back, thus him kidnapping someone I would presumably care about."

"But you don't care about John," Sherlock growled.

"No," Mycroft agreed, "But you do. And hurting you was how they hurt me. And they couldn't get to you, as I had already taken the precautions, I was unable to extend these precautions to John as I didn't expect them to make that connection. An oversight on my part I concede."

Sherlock stood up, fully angry and ready to shout at his brother, but Lestrade grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Calm down," Lestrade whispered, "We're wasting time if you yell at your brother."

Lestrade turned to Mycroft, "So what information can you give us on locating him?"

Mycroft handed over a couple documents. "These are confidential, but it is all the information I have on his organization. The most intel I could gather was that he was planning on buying property somewhere down South in England, not too far from the city. His father gave him several million, so I would suggest looking into properties purchased in the last couple months. Unfortunately that's all I can give you for the moment. I will work on getting more information, but I'm afraid the woman I have in custody won't be much help as I captured her before the blackmailing took place."

Lestrade took the documents and nodded his thanks to Mycroft.

Sherlock glowered at him and then snapped, "Please tell me you are scanning every CTTV in the city looking for him."

"I have people assigned around the clock, looking for any man who meets John's description."

Sherlock nodded in understanding.

Mycroft stood to leave, but paused, "I did tell you caring was not an advantage Sherlock," he reminded his brother gently, but seemingly impassively.

"No," Sherlock agreed, "But it gives you something to fight for. " He looked into his brother's eyes and the two stared at each other, searching for something. Finally, Mycroft broke first and nodded.

"Good luck, I will pass on any other information I find. Let me know if I can be of more assistance."

Sherlock nodded and waved his brother off, already going back to the video transmission.

Lestrade understood now why Sherlock hid his emotions at the beginning, when he started helping the force. He only wished that Sherlock would continue to grow with the help of John. Then maybe Mycroft would see that caring was an advantage too, and then… Lestrade shook his head. Who was he to get involved in a brotherly feud. Besides, it was no good if they didn't find John.

His thoughts were shortly interrupted by Sherlock's shout, "Lestrade, come quick, there are men entering the room again."


	10. Chapter 10: Realizations

A/N: It's been a while, but thanks to everyone who is sticking with me! Sherlock is getting anxious, but we're getting close to the end now! I hope you enjoy and please review! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Realizations**

John sat up quickly as he heard the door being opened. It was late and past what he knew as feeding time. He had no way to tell time, but his internal clock well regulated from years in the army confirmed this.

Four men piled into the room, two stood by the door with their guns trained on him and the other one hauled him off the bed and shoved him to the ground.

"What do you want?" John asked, "I haven't done anything, haven't even tried to escape!"

The man closest to him punched him across the face and John fell backwards from the force.

"What did I do?" John asked as the other man tried to punch him as well. John tried to duck but the man grabbed his arms and held him in place as the man punched him, landing blows to his stomach, his chest, and his face. Soon John was covered in blood and trying to avoid blows. The man then started kicking him and John grit his teeth, praying the man wouldn't get his face, he didn't want to do new dental when he got out.

Finally, after several minutes of beatings, the other man let him go and John collapsed onto all fours on the ground.

The man who had been hitting him smiled amusedly and held up a camera. He spoke softly to John, lowering his voice so only John could hear him. "We heard your little confession and figured maybe he needs more incentive to come get you. The image is blurry, but it should be good enough for a show. I thought I would send him a memento as well… say cheese!" The camera flashed and caught John's face, bloodied and bruised from the beating he just received. The man smirked again and without another word, turned around and left the room, the other three men right behind him.

John leaned back agains this bed, "Ouch, that hurt a bit." He grimaced as he felt the blood on his face and gingerly poked the puffiness around his eye. He furrowed his brow as he thought out loud, "What did he mean about a show?"

* * *

Sally raced down the hall to Lestrade's office and ran in without even knocking. "Sir," she yelled, "Did you see the –"

She stopped immediately upon seeing the state of the room and Lestrade's position over Sherlock. Files were everywhere and there was glass all over the floor. Lestrade was holding Sherlock down in his chair with his hands of both shoulders trying to talk him down as the detective ranted streams of abuse.

Lestrade glanced her way and called at her, "Don't just stand there, help me calm him down!"

Sally ran over and tried to hold Sherlock's flailing arms in place.

"Let me go!" he yelled at her, "I will murder him. I will tear him to pieces and set him on fire. I will.."

"Probably not the best things to tell two officers of the law," she commented mildly and Sherlock glared at her.

"I don't care," he spat at her, "They hurt John… no one hurts John! He's… he can't…"

Suddenly, as quickly as the anger came on, it was replaced by pure exhaustion and tears in his eyes.

Lestrade knew the episode was over and guided Sherlock over to the bench in the corner of his office that sometimes he would kip on briefly on long nights.

"Come on Sherlock, John is okay, you saw him after they left, remember?" Lestrade said gently, "We'll find him and he'll be fine. We'll send those bastards to jail for it too."

Sherlock nodded as tears escaped the corners of his eyes. He looked exhausted and felt it too. He had been awake for more than 72 hours and he was crashing hard.

"I can't," he whispered, struggling to get back to the desk, "I have to find John."

"Lie down and that's an order," Lestrade said to him with a glare. "John will kill us both when we find him if he discovers I let you stay at the station this long without sleeping. You take a nap and I will come wake you up if anything happens to John, deal?"

Sherlock nodded numbly, too emotionally exhausted to argue. He didn't normally have any emotions to deal with each day, and now he had felt so many in such a short time. His brain was overwhelmed and it was shutting down.

"Promise?" he asked wearily.

"Promise," Lestrade confirmed, "Now sleep, I'll come get you if I find anything."

Sherlock curled up into a ball on the bench as Lestrade turned off the sound and the monitor and gestured for Sally to follow him out of the room. Sally, eyes wide in shock and confusion, followed him, glancing back at the devastated man laying on the bench.

As soon as they were out of earshot, she asked "What the hell was that?"

Lestrade looked at her and replied, "That is a very emotionally wrecked man. A man who watched his best friend and man he loves get beaten to a bloody pulp by villains that he cannot find, despite being the best in the world at finding them."

Sally stared at him in disbelief, "Love? The freak loves him? But I thought he couldn't… with him being..."

"You thought wrong," Lestrade told her, "You all did."

Staring at him, realization spread across her face, "You knew!"

Lestrade looked at her and replied, "I don't form judgements in a blink of an eye and I don't let prejudice cloud the facts. Just because he doesn't understand emotions, doesn't mean he doesn't have them."

Sally heart dropped into her stomach, she felt terrible, "I called him a psychopath…"

Lestrade shook his head, "No where near close to one."

They were almost at the end of the hall.

"I'm sorry sir, I've been disrespectful and wrong. Why didn't you reprimand me?"

Lestrade paused, "Because I knew he wouldn't like me standing up for him in that way and because I misjudged the situation as well. I should have said something to you all in private, but I get exasperated too sometimes. Now his reaction to this most recent event is private and does not leave the two of us, do you understand? That is a heartbroken man and we need to find the only person who can fix him." Lestrade stared at her on the threshold of the central case room.

Sally stood tall as she answered him, confident in the change she would make, "Yes sir, understood."

Lestrade nodded in understanding and they walked into the room, "Let's go bring our man home."

* * *

The next morning John woke up, extremely stiff and sore. Gingerly he moved his limbs. Why was he? –Oh, right. His breakfast was already there, so he must have slept late.

John looked around the room again. They had said something about giving a show, but he hadn't taken a picture until the end. That must mean someone was watching him, and maybe listening? He was a little embarrassed about that and his confession if that was the case, but too late to do anything about it and it was true, he wouldn't deny it anymore. He looked around the room and tried to pinpoint the camera. It had to be covering the area he was beat up in, and would have made it so they could see him clearly during that.

John looked at the ceiling closely, but not obtrusively, trying to hide the fact he was searching for the camera. He noticed an outcropping coming down from the ceiling behind the bed. It appeared to only cover the door, bed and floor in that area, not the back of the room where he relieved himself. He decided to test that theory.

John took a bite of food and then walked to the back where he would relieve himself and decided to see how long it would take for someone to enter.

* * *

"He's off camera, Sir," a police officer reported to Lestrade.

"What? How long?" Lestrade asked, heading over to the monitor.

"Well we assumed he went to relieve himself, but he hasn't shown up on camera again for 15 minutes."

"What's he doing?" Lestrade wondered, "trying to dig himself out through the privy?"

Lestrade monitored the screen until several guards ran in and dragged John back over to the bed from off camera. John was deadweight in their arms and Lestrade assumed he must have collapsed. If the sturdy doctor had collapsed, then this was getting serious. They needed to find him and fast.


	11. Chapter 11: Sickness and Clues

A/N: Hello to all! Summer has been busy, but I appreciate the reviews, follows, and faves! The story is complete, just editing these final few chapters, probably one more, maybe two after this one! I hope you all enjoy! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Sickness and Clues**

Well that worked well, thought John to himself. He had gone over to the corner of the room and set about doing his exerises for the day, for about 25 minutes. Then the guards had rushed in and he collapsed to the ground at the sound of the door's lock being lifted.

They had rushed over to him frantically and pulled him onto the bed. They had checked him over for injuries and put bottles of water close to his bed, and tylenol. One of them had even spoken to try and wake him up. John had pretended to be groggy as they forced water down his throat and wiped the sweat off his brow. Guess they thought he had a fever. He supposed he would have to keep with that ruse for the rest of the day. As John lay there, a plan began to form, but first he would try to send Sherlock a message.

* * *

Sherlock had been woken up when John disappeared and was relieved though worried when they brought him back on camera. He wouldn't leave John again, not until they could find him. He watched as John lay on the bed, appearing to be sick. Sherlock bit his lip in worry, John's eyelids were fluttering a lot and he was mumbling. It seemed to be a lot of nonsense, but then he heard **vatican** **cameos**.

Sherlock's eyes widened as soon as his brain picked the words out of the mumbling, was John trying to send a message?

"John, you're brilliant!" he whispered happily as he watched his soldier carefully. Analyzing Jon's words wasn't leading him to much so he took in what visual was available. Then he realized that John wasn't blinking, he was using morse code! Frantically Sherlock searched his brain for that knowledge and found it stuffed in an old shelf, on top of his model pirate ship.

He translated it slowly.

C-A-V-E

R-O-O-M-D-A-R-K-N-O-S-U-N

W-A-L-L-S-C-O-L-D-D-A-M-P

D-O-O-R-S-T-E-E-L-A-R-M-Y

C-A-V-E

And the message repeated until John appeared to fall asleep again. Sherlock smiled with pride at his John. Beating all odds, John had managed to send him some clues to help save himself. Now Sherlock just needed to decipher them.

Sherlock mused, John was taken between 6:35 and 7 pm, and Lestrade had received the broadcast starting at about 3 am, and John was in that room. That meant they had to be within a 9 hour radius. Mycroft said the North and John said he was in a cave, but there was obvious electric light, so that meant electricity, so it's not too remote. They also had a giant steel door, but it's thickness suggested some sort of old detention camp. John said army, how John knew that, Sherlock didn't know, but he supposed John had experience in that area. And that narrowed down the search immensely.

"Lestrade!" Sherlock yelled, getting excited, "Bring me all the properties bought in the last 3 months!"

* * *

John continued to play the sick patient as he waited for Sherlock to find him.

He played it for the entire evening and started again the next morning. If Sherlock wasn't here today, then John would know he didn't get the message, and, well, then John was just going to get out of this himself.

He mixed food with his water in his mouth and pretended to eat slowly and clumsily. Then he put a hand to his chest and gagged, some of the mashed up food coming out. He got up quickly, but not effectively and rushed off camera to spit the food into the pit. John wiped his mouth and grimaced. Took a moment to stretch while making retching sounds. He rolled his shoulders, working out any kinks, then hunched his shoulders and stumbled back onto camera and collapsed on the bed.

The next time the guards came in, they looked at him with hesitation, but John didn't move. He groaned and clutched his stomach as they looked at his barely eaten food and one checked the pit for signs of vomit.

The guard came back on camera and wrinkled his nose and they left another bottle of water for John and some crackers.

They left again and John grinned, face down into his pillow. This was boring, but it was a plan, and he worked _so much better_ with a plan.

* * *

Sherlock managed to eliminate 99% of the locations presented to him in the last day, but none of them seemed right. He had it narrowed down to 3 sites and wanted to investigate them all, but Lestrade wouldn't let him.

"Why can't I go? We need to find him! We know he's there, Lestrade, we have to go."

"You saw the armed guards in the room with John, who knows how many there are on site. I don't want you sneaking in to investigate and getting captured or worse! Normally you can faff off and investigate, but you have barely slept or eaten in the last 4 days and John would kill me if something happens to you. We will send recon to the sites and whichever ones look the most suspicious, we will search."

"But Lestrade, that's not soon enough, look at him!" Sherlock yelled, gesturing to the monitor, "He's sick. At first I thought he was doing it to send me a message, but he's not getting better. What if he gets worse? What if we don't find him fast enough? We have to go out and find him now!

Lestrade looked at the screen and then back at Sherlock with eyes full of sympathy, "I'll send the teams out immediately Sherlock. If this lead turns into anything, I'll let you know."

Sherlock nodded and then his eyes widened in fear as he looked back at John on the screen.

John had stood up, to get some food it appeared, but he was wobbling on his feet. He took one step and almost fell over, and another and then his eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he collapsed on the floor, narrowly missing the bed with his head.

Sherlock watched as John crumpled to the floor. He didn't even hear his own shout or notice himself jumping to his feet, his eyes were wide with horror at John's situation.

"Lestrade!" he shouted, "we have to go to John, NOW!"

Half the yarders were watching Sherlock with surprise and confusion. They had never seen this side of him, the side of him where he actually showed that he cared.

"Lestrade, John, now." Sherlock pleaded desperately, "He's fainted! He is not well! I need to go save him!"

Lestrade patted Sherlock on the arm awkwardly, "I'll send out the recon teams immediately."

"No. I'm going with you," Sherlock said firmly.

Lestrade opened his mouth to argue, to say they didn't need him in the way during a rescue mission, but the steel determination behind Sherlock's fear and his anxious, stuttered movements were enough to make him agree softly, "Alright, let's go."


End file.
